England's series of unfortunate events
by Stolen Key
Summary: A set of stories of pranks pulled on England by Ireland and Scotland and vice versa. The first being a strange fascination with England's eyebrows and the story of how Ireland and Scotland got their own iconic brows Rated M for some language


Disclaimer I don't own Hetalia or the characters just own OCs Ireland and Scotland

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"Shhh" Ireland hissed through the darkness giggling slightly when she saw Scotland stumble behind her. They more than a little drunk and were another one of their 'missions. They had snuck into England's castle and were slowly making their way through a maze of lavishly decorated halls. Eventually they found a room that looked promising, sneaking in they looked around the bedroom and saw England's sleeping form lying in the bed. Stealthily tiptoeing closer they pulled out a bottle, a small flat stick and two pieces of fabric from a bag Scotland held. "Are you sure this is going to *hiccup* work?" Ireland asked trying to hold back more laughter.

"Heh not shure really, but the wome-women in court said it would work," Scotland slurred in reply, "apparently the womeh-women in southern countries do this all the time."

Rubbing her hands together gleefully Ireland looked down at England and moved around the bed to look at his face. "Aww he looks so cute and innocent sleeping," she cooed bending over to brush his hair away from his face. "Enough of that woman, now heh-help me roll him onto his back," Scotland scowled, moving up to the opposite side of the bed. Carefully Scotland grabbed England's shoulder and turned him over, Ireland keeping England steady so as not to wake him. They froze in place as England shuffled a bit to get comfortable again, relaxing once they knew he was still fast asleep. Scotland handed Ireland the bottle and he told her to warm it up in her hands. "Ok what next?" she asked once the bottle was warm enough. Taking the bottle Scotland opened it and poured the contents onto both of England's huge eyebrow and using the stick to spread it out. "What is this stuff anyway?" she wondered aloud as she watched him work.

"I think it's called shugar wax, and hand me the material," he answered keeping a close eye on England who stirred slightly when the wax was poured on. Complying she handed him the material strips and stood back as he pressed one onto each eyebrow. He then signalled for her to grab one of the strips and to pull it straight back when he told her. Giggling again she rushed forward and took hold of the strip above his left eyebrow. "He is going to look much better now without these huge things," she laughed, Scotland almost threw himself over the bed to hold his hand over her mouth to keep her silent. Hovering over England Scotland almost collapsed and had to stop himself from laughing at the thought of how England will look without those hideous eyebrows. Gasping for air he pulled himself off the bed and took hold of the other strip. "When you're ready we pull," he looked up at Ireland, matching her huge grin, "Now as his king should be so fond of saying, off with his eyebrows!" They both pulled and suddenly England's eyes snapped open and he screamed in agony. Sitting bolt upright he lifted his hands up to his now absent eyebrows and then crouched over in pain. "YOU BASTARDS! WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU PLAYING AT?" he screamed at them as they fled the room howling in laughter. The image of England was too much and they almost fell over each other as they looked back at him when they scrambled through the door. Jumping from his bed he raced after them screaming for the guards to stop them.

Racing down the hallways they shouted out roughly formed plans of escape to each other then turning down another hallway before stopping and running straight back past England. "England you look lovely now!" Ireland shouted back at him before turning another corner and disappearing. His face red with anger he growled and set off after them again calling for the guards to get their act together and stop them. Eventually Scotland and Ireland made their way out to the front courtyard but only found themselves surrounded. Slumping together they collapsed in a fit of laughter as England caught up and they saw how red and ridiculous he looked without his eyebrows. Panting for air they sat on the ground watching the guards surround them at England's command.

"How long do you think he will lock us up for?" Scotland asked Ireland a grin still plastered on his face.

"Not sure, but either way that was worth it," Ireland replied right before two guards came forward and grabbed her arms dragging her off to the cells. Scotland followed closely after, refusing to be carried and allowing the guards to escort him.

Ireland woke up the next morning in a dark cell on a straw filled mattress, her head pounding. The night before was a blur but she remembered drinking with Scotland and then plotting something against England, the rest was a mixture of running, laughing and a very angry England. Why England was angry she could not remember. Unsteadily getting to her feet, she called out to a guard to let her out or to call England. After what felt like an hour she heard footsteps and England appeared in front of her cell, his eyebrows noticeably absent and very badly drawn in. Suddenly the memories of what happened came flooding back to her and she collapsed in laughter curling up in a ball on the stone floor. Red climbing up England's face he glared down at the nation, painfully aware of his lack of eyebrows. "Ahem, Ireland I would not laugh if I were you," he sneered down at her then passed her a mirror.  
"Why would that be?" she teased before taking the mirror.

"Look at yourself," he demanded holding his head up high now. Doing what she was told she held the mirror up to her face and screamed at what she saw. Her previously normal eyebrows were now massive like England's but less wild and a light copper in colour. "Considering you have such a fascination with my eyebrows I thought that you might like a matching pair, but my curse didn't work out the way I had planned so they are slightly different," he continued, looking down and picking at his nails.

Throwing herself at the bars she tried reaching England but he only took a step back out of her reach. "How fucking dare you? Your eyebrows will grow back and I'm stuck with these things now. How is that any way to repay the person that fucking taught you magic in the first place?" she growled her eyes alight with rage.

"If you think your eyebrows are bad you should see Scotland's," he scoffed in return. "Really? Then prove it!" she challenged, stepping back to allow England to let her out. Hesitantly he moved forward and unlocked Ireland's cell, he walked past a few cells and stopped at the last one laughing slightly when he looked at the occupant. Following him Ireland stopped beside him before looking in the cell. Scotland was still sleeping, snoring loudly and hugging some loose straw close to him, on his face were the biggest eyebrows Ireland had ever seen. To Ireland it looked like someone had glued two caterpillars to each eyebrow and then dyed them with coal. Suppressing a laugh she turned towards England, "well, yea it seems I did get off easy. Amm can I head now? I have a killer headache and I just want to sleep it off." She was trying and failing to avoid looking at England's face, afraid she might burst out laughing. "Fine, get out of here now, but if you do anything like that again I will do more than curse you," he warned his glare returning.

"One thing first," she exclaimed waking up a bit and rushed forward to grab the bucket of water in the corner. She turned around towards Scotland and threw the water through the bars, soaking him in the ice cold very murky liquid. Jumping awake Scotland scrambled to his feet, his head still heavy with a hangover and noticed Ireland run past the cell door shouting her goodbyes. He looked around confused but easily put two and two together once he saw England. Grinning maniacally at his lack of eyebrows he barely concealed a laugh as England silently tossed him the mirror Ireland had dropped. "Look in it," England demanded with a smirk. Complying Scotland took the mirror and looking in it he yelped dropping it to the floor. "Ye wee bastard I am gonna fucking kill ye when I get my hands on ye," he shouted. Laughing England walked away leaving Scotland to calm down for a few hours. Ireland once she was matched or bested she was easy to talk to and wouldn't counter right away, Scotland on the other hand would take all his anger out on him and he didn't want anything else happen to his face that day. He stopped at a guard and with a smirk warned him to keep Scotland in isolation and he, himself would deliver his meals. Yes, he though watching Scotland go berserk and being completely safe from his fists was going to be quite entertaining indeed.

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So I suddenly had the idea of England getting his eyebrows waxed off and being forced to draw them back on after watching some very cringeworthy tv and this is what my brain came up with.

Reviews are amazing and if you see any grammatical or spelling mistakes please point them out


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